


Do You Like What You See, Mr. Nygma

by mrgoldsdearie



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Choking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, self-fingering, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 20:04:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9254369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrgoldsdearie/pseuds/mrgoldsdearie
Summary: Oswald fingers himself in front of Edward, making him wait for a taste. Animalistic fucking soon follows.





	

**Author's Note:**

> UUUUGGGGHHHH!!!! This took forever to write, It’s nothing but porn, so..... Happy Reading!

Edward Nygma sits in the floral upholstered chair on the left side of the bedroom he shares with his husband, waiting for Oswald to exit from the bathroom. He crosses his right leg over the left, thinking of all the things his little birdie’s doing behind the closed door. He imagines Oswald stepped out of the warm tub, water droplets trickling down his naked body, slicking his hands through his drenched charcoal hair.

> _“Mmm, husband,” Oswald would say, as Edward grabs him by the hips, bring his wet body against his own like matching puzzle pieces. “We need to get the towel before we freeze.” He reaches up and cups the back of Edward's neck, combing his fingers through his hair._
> 
> _“We won't freeze if we’re standing close,” he’d hum in the shell of his ear, sliding his hand down his penguin’s saturated body, wrapping it around his semi-stiffness. “And I know of a way to get your warm blood pumping.”_
> 
> _“I like the way you think, Mr. Nygma.”_

Edward suddenly closes his eyes and shakes himself out of his fantasy. Why didn’t he just join his man when he offered to take a bath together? Now he's regretting his decision wholeheartedly. They could have been having fun already.

The bathroom door cracks open and Oswald stands at the threshold, wearing the bathrobe they occasionally share. “You missed a relaxing bath,” he says, with a twisted grin, slipping his hands into the pockets of the robe.

“I was sitting here bemoaning that decision.”

“Good.” Oswald shuffles from the bathroom, making his way to their canopy bed.

“Hey, I thought you'd come and meet me over here.”

“Well, you thought wrong,” Oswald replies, climbing into the bed.

“Then I guess I'm going to have to join you over there.” He stands to his feet.

“Wrong again, Ed,” he says before Edward could take a step forward. “You're going to stay over there and I'm going to stay right here.”

Edward tips his head slightly to the left, pushing his glasses back into his face. “That doesn't sound very fun, babe.”

“But it will be fun.”

“Well….”, he sighs out. “I guess I'll play along.”

“You have no other choice but to play.” Oswald sits up on his knees in the middle of the bed, slowly exposing his left shoulder from underneath the robe. “Do you like what you see, Mr. Nygma?”

“Well it isn't much—” he shrugs— “but I like where this is headed.” Amusing his lover with a luminescent smile and a wink.

Oswald chuckles, removing the small bottle of lubrication from the right pocket of his robe and rests it on the bed, before untying the bow that holds the robe closed. “How about now?” Oswald reveals his body, leering at his husband with a lubricious glare, rigid cock hanging freely from between his legs.

“You've been a naughty boy.” Edward licks his lips, retaking his seat back on the chair. Seeing Oswald’s thickness only makes his own flutter in his pants.

“I couldn't help but think about you in the bathroom—”Oswald takes his length in hand— “wondering if you'd ever step inside—” slowly teases himself, spreading the beads of pre-cum down his shaft— “imagining the things we’d do together, but you never joined me.”

Edward's right-hand travels to his center, fondling himself through the fabric of his clothing, never cutting his eyes away from his sweetheart's pleasuring gaze. “I regret that now,” he breathes, squeezing his package firmly.

“You should,” Oswald says huskily, juggling his heavy balls in his hand, admiring the sensual expressions on Edward's face. “That's -- that's why you're not going to touch me until I say so.”

“But I want to touch you now.”

Oswald slightly tips his head forward, lowering his brow.  “You're going to have to wait,” he gnarls thickly.    

“It this my punishment for not joining you in the tub?”

“Yes, Mr. Nygma.” He completely removes the robe and drops on all fours, crawling to the foot of the bed. “Do you want to kiss me?”, the little birdie chirps in an alluring tone.

“Greatly.”

“Maybe I'll let you a little later.” He licks his lips, brings in the bottom lip between his teeth. He then sits back up on his knees, caressing his hand against his smooth hairless chest, slipping them down the length of his body, teasing his husband even more. “Where do you want to kiss me?”

“Your lips.”

Oswald slowly traces his finger around his succulent lips. “Where else?”, he asks.

“Your chest,” Edward quickly replies, feeling his pants growing tighter with each passing moment.

His hand falls down to his chest and he gently twists his sensitive pebbled nipple. “Ah—” his body lightly shivers and his head falls back— “And?”, Oswald groans.

Edward leans forward in the chair, eyes gleaming with lust for his husband, closing his hand tighter around himself. Oswald knows exactly what to do and say to push him closer to the edge. The Penguin knows how much Edward loves to touch his body and right now he's using it against him. “Your ass,” he snarls through his teeth, unable to hold back the animalistic urges within him.

“I thought you might say that.” Oswald turns his back to his husband and pulls a few pillows underneath him before leaning over them for support and exposes his porcelain back side to his lover. He peeks back at Edward from around his right shoulder, caressing his plump cheek with his hand. “Mmm…. I can imagine you touching me.”

“You don’t have to imagine it.”

The Penguin smacks his hand against bare flesh. “Ah!… Yes—” his body quakes— “I do.” Slowly soothes the pain of his self-spanking, then brings his hand down upon his reddened backside again. “Uh!”

Edward impulsively stands to his feet, no longer able to just sit still and watch. He needs to play right now. “Let me do that for you, babe!”, he shouts in desperation.

‘No!”, Oswald barks and sits up on his knees, glaring at Edward from over his shoulder. “And sit down!” he demands.

Edward wipes the drool from the side of his lips, backing up to the chair, and retakes his seat. “Yes, Mr. Penguin.”

“If you—” points sternly at his husband— “do that again, I’ll make you wait longer!”

“I’m sorry.” Edward’s legs flutter with anticipation, hands seizing firmly at his pants. He loves it when Oswald takes a bit of dominance over him. It always makes him weak in the knees.

“I forgive you,”  Oswald says more smoothly and slowly retakes his position, leaning before Edward, but this time he grabs the bottle of lube resting on the fabric. He squirts a good amount onto the slender fingers and reaches behind with his right hand to his separated cheeks, spreading the cold substance around the border of his greedy little hole. He prepared for the night during his alone time in the bathroom. Not only did Oswald want to drive his husband to the edge, he wants to shove him over it.

Edward watches breathlessly as his lover gently glides a finger inside himself. “Oh, Oswald.” His cock ached painfully in his pants, so he unbuckles them to relieve himself from some of the throbbing pressure, but the only way he can get full relief is with his manhood repeatedly thrusting inside his penguin.

Oswald lays his head on the pillow, moving his finger in and out, matching his breathing with the rhythm of his hand. “Edward,” he’s honeyed voice moans, removing his hand and re-entering himself with two digits. “Mmm…. Edward,” he repeats his groom's name in that same angelic tone, closing his eyes in a rapture of delight. “Do you -- do you like what you see, Mr. Nygma?”

Edward gulps, squeezing and tugging at his cock still imprisoned in his black cotton briefs. “Oh, yes, Os—” his hips involuntarily buck— “I -- I love it,” whimpers. He can't help but imagine the things he wants to do to that puckered hole. Kiss. Suck. Lick. Tenderly nibbling with his soft blushing lips. All until his birdie tweets a symphony of songs from all the pleasure he'd receive.

“Ah…. Ed!” Oswald slams his black-glitter manicured fingertips against his prostate, shooting volts of electricity down his spine, causing his body to ripple.

“Oh…. Os…. You're so dazzling.” Edward crosses his legs with his hand still between them and rubs them together, trying to increase the friction against his cock. “I -- I need to touch you,” he implores.

“Mmm.… Mmm….” Oswald finger fucks himself faster, scissoring them inside to stretch his tight hole, dragging out the taunting of his riddle-man even more. “What are you going -- going to do to me, Ed?”

“I'm going to eat your ass,” he groans in a low beastly tone.

“And?”, Oswald exhales and sinks his teeth into a pillow underneath him.

“And I’m going to fuck you raw,” he mutters with a twitch in his upper lip, eyes searing red with desire.

Oswald lifts himself, anchoring his upper body on his left arm, peeking back at Edward from over his shoulder once again. Their eyes connect, so intense, so hot-blooded, so hungry for each other, exchanging this gaze only greater fuels their needs.  “Ah…. Ah….”, Oswald breathes heavily, drilling his ebony-glitter painted fingertips deep inside himself, delighting in the sensation and the spectacle of his whimpering, fidgeting husband. It looks as though Edward is going to explode if he doesn't get his hands on his favorite flightless bird. Oswald can see that he's reached the breaking point, so he decides it’s finally time to give him what he craves. “You can come over here and fuck me now.”

Edward wastes no time standing to his feet and darts to the bed like a rabid animal who's just escaped its cage. But once at the mattress, Edward paces himself. It would be a critical error to just jump on top of his beloved. He knows Oswald didn't build him up this way for all of it to begin clumsily. No. He needs to start out slowly, then things can get dirty.

Edward gently removes Oswald’s hand from his backside and leans in to bring his painted digits to his mouth. He sheathed his lips around his husband’s fingers, in awe of the taste that has kissed his tongue. “Mmm, banana,” he murmurs, as his body shudders, slipping the fingers from between his lips.

“I thought you might enjoy the flavored lube tonight,” Oswald says, taking back his hand and sits up on his hands and knees.

“You were right.” He reaches for the bottle resting on the bed and fills his hand with the flavored lubrication, then tosses the bottle away. Edward slowly skates his clean hand up Oswald’s spine and his back arches underneath his touch. “You made me wait to taste you, Oswald.” He drags his hand down with his nails scratching against flesh but he doesn't break the skin. “So, I'm going to make you beg to be fucked.”

Oswald tips forward into the pillows, keeping his round end in the air, spreading his arms out in front of him. “You’re going to make me beg?”, he taunts, gripping tightly at the bedsheets. “I look forward to it.”

He gazes deviously down upon Oswald and smears the lube over his inviting opening, then slides his thick thumb inside. So warm. So slick. He can feel his husband’s body excite. “I know you like that.”

“Yes—” he grinds his ass against Edward's hand— “I do.”

“But it's not enough for you, is it?” He gradually drives his thumb inside Oswald.

“Ah…. No,” he breathes.

“Say, please, and I'll give you more.”

“No.”

“No?” Edward tips his head to the left, working his thumb in and out, stretching his lover’s ring with every motion. “Well, why not?”

“You said…. Ah—” he clenches his muscle around Edward's thumb, steadying his breathing to finish his sentence— “you’d make me beg, but you -- you haven’t done anything to earn it.”

Oswald's words sound more like a challenge than anything else to Edward and there isn't a game he wouldn't try to win. “Well, is that so?” He removes his thumb and takes off his glasses, tossing them to the head of the bed. “You are right in a way.” He massages Oswald's ass and lightly smacks it, witnessing his beloved’s cheeks vellicate under his touch. “But that's not gonna last long,” he adds, before promptly submerging his face between his husband’s hairless round cheeks, grazing his slick tongue across the length of his crack, then quickly focuses all his attention on the birdie’s pulsating entry.

Oswald grips and claws at the mattress, arching his back. “Oh, Ed!” Never foresaw his lover going down on him so hard and fast.

Edward blows warm air onto Oswald’s skin, exiting his nerve endings, before reconnecting his lips against his partner's pucker. His hands grip tightly onto the Penguin’s blushing cheeks, keeping them separated while he eats. He stiffens his tongue and traces it around the rim, then dips it inside, flicking.

“Fuck!.... Fuck!....”, Oswald pants, fighting off the urge to close his legs.

The Riddler scraps his right hand firmly down the back of Oswald's thigh and snakes it between his legs, taking hold of his husband's manhood. He kisses his lover's hole, nibbling sweetly at the brim with his soft flushed lips, as he jacks his little penguin’s shaft.

Oswald’s face blushes. His freckles more visible against the iridescent shade. He can sense his plea sitting at the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't feel that his husband has earned his cries if he's still able to hold them off. “Mmm…. Mmm….”, he whimpers.

Edward's lips travel a little further down, giving Oswald's balls some much-needed stimulation. He sucks and licks at the heavy sacks, filling his mouth with their warmth, saliva dribbling down his chin.

“P-ple-… Ah…. Ah!”, the little bird suppresses his plea to be fucked.

Edward brings Oswald's length to his lips and dips his tongue between the folds of his foreskin, swirling it around the head, lapping up the drops of pre-cum seeping out. He slowly eases the middle finger of his free hand into Oswald, further electrifying his bundle of nerves, while rubbing his husband’s foreskin between his slippery lips as if he were applying lip balm.

The rousing sensation around his shaft and in his ass has become too much to keep the Penguin from crying out. His breathing hollowed and quickens as he searches deep inside for that last bit of willpower to stop himself from begging, but it isn't there. Oswald’s right-hand closes into a taut fist, hitting it against the mattress. “Please!”, he cries out, body coiled with pressure.

Edward pretends not to hear his weeping, continuing his work on the little penguin’s cock.

“Please, baby!” He slams his fist against the bed again, balls quivering, toes curling tightly.

Edward speeds the motion of his hand, pounding endlessly on his beloved’s prostate, needing to hear exactly the right words.

“Please, please!” Oswald roars. His voice echoes just beyond their bedroom door. “Please… Edward, fuck me!.... Oh please, fucking, fuck me!”

Edward immediately stands up straight, satisfied with the display of his twitching husband. “You look wrecked,” he says harshly through his teeth and licks his lips. “Now that's how you beg to be fucked.” He finally removes his pants and his hard cock falls out from its restraints. Edward leans over Oswald, teasing his lover by lightly rasping the tip of his stiffness against his relaxed pulsating asshole. He kisses the other man on the shoulder, followed by his gorgeous neck, and nibbles on his earlobe. “Can I pull your hair, Mr. Penguin?”, his humid breath murmured on his flesh.

“Ah….”, he exhales, desperate to feel his husband's cock deep inside him. “You can do -- do whatever you wish, Mr. Nygma.”

And with that answer, Edward slams his manhood inside his partner's hole, fisting his hand in his hair. “Uh…. Uh….” He moans with each vigorous thrust, lightly pulling at his raven locks.

Oswald felt all the pressure when he shoved himself within him. “S-s-shit!”, he stammered out, reaching up to the back of Edward's head, grabbing a fist full of hair for himself.

Edward removes Oswald’s hand from his head and holds it down against the mattress, drilling his thickness in and out of his slippery narrow walls. “You didn't ask me,” he groans in the shell of his ear.

“I'm—” he closes his eyes, relishing the rough ride— “sorry.”

“It’s okay, I forgive you.” He stands up, pulling Oswald to his knees by the back of his head, bringing their bodies together in this upward position. “You're so—” he slides his hands down Oswald's torso, feeling his soft skin and the raised scars from his life in Gotham’s underworld, planting them firmly on his hips— “much tighter this way.” His sultry breath breathes upon his lover's face before consuming his luscious lips in a sensual kiss.

Oswald forces his muscle into Edward's mouth, scraping it across the bottom row of straight teeth. He abruptly breaks their connection and rests the back of his head on his shoulder, exposing his neck to his love. “Choke me, Ed.” His hands skate around to Edward’s ass, taking hold of his cheeks. “I know you want to,” he offers, knowing just how to push his husband even further with his kinks.

Edward gazes at Oswald's neck, watching the rapid rhythm of his pulse. He licks his neck, grazing his tongue across his bobbing adam’s apple. “Are you sure?” He bucks his hips against his lover’s tight ass.

“Ah…. Yes…. You know, I know the safe word.”

“You do.” Edward quickly takes his husband's neck, ever so slightly closing his long slim fingers around him, listening as it slowly becomes harder for him to breath. He longs at the alarming glare in his birdie’s wide blue eyes. Absolutely beautiful. They've done this countless times before and he always admires that face. Edward removes his hand just as hastily as he added it, he didn't need much of the intoxicating feeling. He wasn’t even thinking of it until his penguin mentioned it. But with just a short moment of having his beloved’s life in his hands and Oswald’s trust in him to not take it too far, was what he needed to get him to the climax. “Thank you, Oswald,” he whispers, kissing the brim of his crimson lips.

Oswald falls forward back onto his hands and knees, catching up the breath he’s lost, receiving just as much of a rush as Edward does. He anchors himself to take his lover's aggressive advances by clutching onto the sheet. “Oh…. Oh…. I’m gonna cum.”

Edward’s balls smack against Oswald's redden ass with every drive he takes within him, filling his beloved to the max with his length, as the hollow thumping of their bodies connecting become louder. His nails dig deep into his lover’s hips and his eyes roll back in sexual bliss, reliving his hand round Oswald’s fragile neck. Such a flood of power. Edward clenches his jaw and his body tenses, as the surge of his orgasm sweeps over him, ejaculating a massive creamy wad of his release within his little flightless bird. He continues to fuck his husband as cum oozes out coating his shaft, penetrating Oswald’s spot until he reaches the rhapsodies of nirvana as well.

“Oh, Fuck!” Oswald’s cock twitches, staining the silk sheets below him.

They ride out the waves of their orgasms together, bodies shivering against each other, damp breath panting heavily from their lips. In love with one another more than ever.

Edward pulls himself out of Oswald, as more of his climax drips from his lover’s backside, and sits on the edge of the bed, collapsing next to his exhausted penguin.

Oswald sluggishly straddles him, laying on top of his man, burying his head in the curve of his neck. Their hearts beating in sync.

After a moment of holding each other in this position, the Riddler lifts his birdie’s head and kisses him tenderly on the lips.

“Mmm,” Oswald hums, tasting the faint flavor of the banana lube still upon his mouth.

Edward nibbles sweetly at his pouty bottom lip before breaking their connection. “I didn't hurt you, did I, husband?”, he asks. Causing the love of his life any real pain is the last thing he wants.

“No. You gave me everything I wanted and beyond that,” Oswald assures him, brushing away the dark bark strands of hair that have fallen on his face.

He smiles, cupping the back of Oswald’s neck, drawing him to touch their brows together. “You're so beautiful, Oswald.” He combs the short mane on the back of his neck.

“I can say the same about you.” He rubs their noses together, unable to suppress his gleeful laugh.

Edward admires his little chuckle. It always warms his heart to see a smile on Oswald’s face. “I have a riddle for you, my love.”

He beams, feeling confident that he'll know the answer. He's gotten better at riddles since marrying Mr. Nygma. “Okay.”

“Sometimes when you get in me, you gain the urge to sing a song. But you can get wrinkly fingers—” he takes Oswald's hand from his chest, lacing them together— “if you stay in me too long. What am I, Oswald?”

“That's an easy one.” He kisses their hands locked together. “You’re a bathtub,” answers with a smirk.

“Ding, ding…. Correct, my little bird.” He kisses Oswald tenderly on the neck.

“Mmm....”, the Penguin softly moan. “So, are you suggesting we -- we take a bath together?”

“Correct again.” Edward nibbles playfully on Oswald's neck. "Nom, nom, nom."

"Ah!", he cries out in laughter, pushing Edward's shoulders down into the bed. He takes a moment to catch his breath before speaking. “But I already suggested we take a bath earlier. I can’t believe you want to join me this time.”

“Of course I do.” Edward soothingly rubs Oswald's back. “I won’t make that mistake of never joining you in the tub again. I’ve learned my lesson.” And a stimulating lesson he's learned. He honestly wouldn't mind being taught again. “Plus, I know how much you want to crawl under the warm blanket together and cuddle. We can start our cuddling in the tub.”

Oswald dissolves into giggles once again, resting his head on Edward's shoulder. “You know me so well, Ed.”

“I’m supposed to. I’m your husband.” He kisses the tip of his pointed nose.

The Penguin traces the lining of his riddle-man’s lips. “I love you so much.”

He presses his lips against his soft, black-glitter painted, fingertips. “I love you too, Oswald.”


End file.
